


shaking hands

by Aegopodium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood Quills (Harry Potter), Chronic Pain, Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Theodore Nott, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Hurt Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, POV Harry Potter, Powerful Harry, fuck jk rowling tbh, i am very tired right now please be nice, no ships for this one, the second chapter refuses to be written i stg, theo is trying his best ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28040322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegopodium/pseuds/Aegopodium
Summary: what would happen if we put our dear protagonist through a bit more? what if harry felt more pain? what if nobody noticed until it was too late to prevent it?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood & Harry Potter, None, Theodore Nott & Harry Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	1. somebody give this child a hug

**Author's Note:**

> bro I need more self control why do I keep writing things really late at night while I’m feeling like shit

Just once, Harry wished, just once can I get a full night's sleep?  
It started like a fair few of his other dreams, dark halls and dark wizards. But this time he wasn’t in Voldemort’s head, this time he was staring up at the ornate ceiling of a ballroom covered in blast marks from desperately cast and uncontrolled spells. He stared as he was hauled unceremoniously up from the floor, he stared as the snake-faced nazi from hell raised a slender, bone white wand. He stopped staring when the word was uttered and his vision blacked out from the pain. Crucio. His nerves screamed for relief as his organs burned and his skin felt like it had shattered, this was far worse than the basilisk venom of second year and not even fawkes could help him now. His throat felt raw, as if he had been screaming (he had been), and he looked through the fuzziness of his pain clouded eyes as the wand was raised once more. This could have continued for less than an hour, or over a day, and Harry wouldn’t have noticed the passing of time. All he could hear was that gods forsaken word of mangled latin and malicious intent.

When he woke it was to his own screams. They had not escaped the wards he put up, but they did leave him completely voiceless for the day. It was early, about 4 am, but after that he couldn’t risk going to sleep. And so he wandered through the halls, pale and shaking, looking for all the world like he had just been brought from the grave. He wandered to the third floor corridor, to the chamber, to the whomping willow, to the great hall, and still no one woke. He was still shaking.

Classes that day continued as they had, he got detention from snape as his hands shook too much to prep his ingredients properly. No one commented on the dark circles under his eyes, or his pale and sallow skin, or the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day. Nobody noticed how quiet he was, how badly his hands shook. He was too good at hiding for that. 

He got his homework done in a messy scrawl that was worse than usual and left the common room for his detention. It was dismal, snape gave him a second for once again being sloppy in his cutting work but no sarcastic comment was flung back, no sharp and defensive words were exchanged.

The next night harry did not sleep, nor the one after that, nor the one after that. By the time the weekend rolled around harry was running on anxiety and spite as he attempted to still his mind in the library, but as it tended to do his internal monologue only got faster and more jumbled the less sleep he got.

Luna was the one who found him. His brow creased in frustration and sleep deprivation as he sat at a library table and stared at the wood grain. She sat next to him and started rubbing small circles in the back of his hand. She didn’t talk, as she started to braid his hair and squeezed his shoulder gently. He fell asleep quickly but his hands kept shaking. Luna frowned and took note of this, pulling out a book and reading as Harry drifted into the first sleep since that Tuesday night. When he woke the sun was beginning to dip below the crests of the old growth pines outside of the small window at the back of the library. He could smell lavender and elderflower and old paper from his spot in the library, leaning on Luna’s shoulder. Had he enough energy he probably would have been embarrassed but after the week he’d had? It just wasn’t in the cards. But at least he knew that for now, he could be safe.


	2. help at hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> luna is trying her best, snape is a git, and theo is suspicious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long honestly this chapter would not be written i stg. i meant to post it after a week had passed but I had to go through like 3 rough drafts before i got something even remotely passable. anyway it looks like this story is gonna end up longer than i intended when i had the idea so buckle up bitches

After that afternoon, Luna would check up on Harry at breakfast. It started small, a gentle hand on his shoulder, a cork slipped into his pocket, but gradually they grew more comfortable in their companionship. Harry would listen without judgment as luna picked out light and healthy meals for him, Luna would recommend a book or sit with him as the world got too much, they had an easy friendship.  
The nightmares never did stop however, and harry would still feel the phantom pains of a curse sitting under his skin. He would still shake too much, sleep too little. But when things were at their worst he had a friend, an ally, a sister in all but blood.  
——  
Severus wasn’t happy with Harry Potter. He never was, to be honest, but this was getting rather absurd.  
“20 points from gryffindor for lack of effort, and see me after classes for detention Potter!”  
The boy just nodded, he wouldn’t even deign to give a response! The spoiled little brat had Lily die for him and he couldn’t even be polite, such a disgrace.  
——  
Theodore Nott was curious. As a Slytherin he expected Potter to at least make snide remarks toward him when he bumped into Potter’s shoulder on the way out of potions class yet Potter just looked at him, apologetic, and hurried out of the room. When he pulled Potter into an empty classroom during the free period they both shared he expected protesting at the very least and hexing at the worst, what he didn’t expect was for Potter to grit his teeth in pain as he cradled his left hand to his chest. And he certainly didn’t expect to see that hand twitching and inflamed as potter looked at him, resigned to what was certainly going to be some brutal verbal attack against his person.  
“Well then Nott, get on with it.”  
“With what? Are you asking me to insult you Potter?” Theodore inquired as confusion seeped through the guarded expression he had cultivated,  
“Aren’t you going to say I’m a spoiled prat? A Gryffindor pansy? Did you not drag me here to insult me?” The line of questions were defensive, bordering on cagey, as if Theodore had cornered a feral cat instead of a lion.  
“Actually Potter, I was wondering if you were alright.” Theodore’s response had Potter stepping back as if he had been struck, his eyes alight with suspicion as Theodore reached out a hand. “May I take a look at that hand of yours? I have dittany on me that should help with the swelling.”  
A shaking hand was outstretched and the fraying bandages removed. A crease appeared between Theodore’s eyebrows as he saw the phrase gouged into the back of Harry's hand, as if it were a litany the words ‘I must not tell lies’ had been written over and over again into the pale, thin flesh.  
“Did you not seek help?” The words were hoarse and not at all the usual composed tone that Theodore had been trained in, “I don’t- are you alright? Who did this?”  
“No.” Harry's statement was firm, Theodore almost laughed. Of course the most authoritative tone he had ever heard from his peer, though he never had talked much to Potter, had come when he was avoiding talking about someone who hurt him. What was he expecting from the savior of the Wizarding world other than a completely selfless individual after all. In the end he simply handed the bottle of dittany to Harry with the promise of sending more medical supplies via a Hogwarts house elf to avoid any suspicion from people seeing an owl laden with a suspicious amount of bandages and dittany salve. And that was more than Harry had expected from anyone in his life- let alone received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed and as always comments are encouraged!

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaand that’s it for now folks I’m hoping to write another chapter but who knows so subscribe if you’re interested ig. didn’t really edit this by the way so there’s probably missing capitalization or some shit


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